


Yippee Ki Yay, DaddyFucker

by sasha_feather



Category: Live Free or Die Hard (2007)
Genre: Age Difference, Alien references, Community: sexy_right, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Phone Sex, Star Trek References, alternating pov, assholes in love, cross dressing, cross play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:56:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6288958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_feather/pseuds/sasha_feather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt ran his hands over John’s bald head, pulled him down, and said too loudly, “Yeah, Daddy, give it to me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yippee Ki Yay, DaddyFucker

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to betas and cheerleaders for invaluable help, enthusiasm, and kindness: feedtabe, longwhitecoats, toft, and thingswithwings
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated!

Matt’s leg ached and he couldn’t sleep. He was a night owl anyways which normally didn’t bother him or anyone else, but these days he was sharing a bed. The red digiclock read 4 AM when he finally snuck back into bed where John lay sleeping. John stirred, woke, turned towards Matt and ran a hand down his side. Matt snuggled closer.

“Did you take your meds?” John asked.

Matt rolled his eyes. “Yes, daddy.” It came out weird, less sarcastic than he was aiming for and more fond. He heard John’s breath catch. 

Then John laughed, quietly, and ran his hand into Matt’s hair. “Is that how it is? Well then, Daddy tells you to go to sleep.”

“Ugh,” Matt said, but he could feel sleep pulling him down, the weight of John’s hand comforting and warm.

///

He said it again during sex; Matt didn’t mean to but he always did have a mouth that ran on ahead of his brain. John was just so strong, and he had this tendency to growl and grunt when they were fooling around. Matt ran his hands over John’s bald head, pulled him down, and said too loudly, “Yeah, Daddy, give it to me.”

John paused for just a moment and inhaled, and Matt was briefly afraid he’d crossed a line. John’s face looked focused, serious, and it was no small thing for Matt, to feel all that considerable power directed toward him alone. It was amazing that anyone ever tried to mess with John McClane. It was amazing that crowds didn’t part before him on the street. But John gave that half-smile, the calculating, impressed one, and tapped Matt on the hip. “Turn over for me,” he said.

Matt complied, stuck his ass up in the air. He was sweating all over. It was early September, late afternoon, and hot. He wiped his forehead on his arms. “Fuck me, McClane. I’m waiting.”

“Not yet, Princess,” John said, scratching gently along Matt’s back. 

Matt flushed all over. “What,” he said. “I just-- I just honestly… how are you so good at this.”

John slapped his ass, hard. They’d done this before, the spanking, but not with this particular flavor of dirty talk. Matt groaned long and loud and his hips started to stutter. John grabbed him around his middle, stilling him, then spanked him again; gently, then hard. “Shh, hold still. Daddy knows what’s best for you, baby.”

Matt felt a warmth in his chest, breaking open and spilling out, and his eyes started leaking. His mouth still wanted to make words but all that came out was “Yes,” and “Oh.” 

Finally John entered him in one long stroke, slow and sure. Matt pushed himself up a little, grinding back onto John’s cock. His words came back in a rush. “Give it to me big man, I want your cock; I’m so hungry for it. Fuck me hard.”

“You got it, Princess,” John said, and fucked him like the athlete he was. With one hand John cupped Matt’s balls, with the other he clamped down on Matt’s hip, guiding the angle to find his prostate. John bit into Matt’s shoulder, moved his hand to Matt’s dick and stroked it just twice, and Matt was coming hard on a low, guttural moan. John held them both still for a few moments before he started again, thrusting until he finished. 

Matt lay there for a while not thinking of anything, until John tapped his hip again, the signal for “turn over.”

Matt sprawled lazy and warm on the bed and watched as John stripped the condom and disposed of it in the bathroom trash can. The late afternoon sunlight washed over him as he moved; he looked like a statue brought to life. John laid back down beside Matt, close despite the heat, and played with his hair. 

“I fucking love you,” Matt said into John’s cheek.

“Do you fucking love me, or do you love fucking me?” John said mildly, half asleep.

“Both, asshole.”

“Mmm, me too.” 

“Is it weird, though, the daddy kink? I mean I guess it’s weird but no weirder than any other thing we do. Maybe it’s all those store owners and random jerk offs making assumptions and it just wormed its way into my subconscious--”

“Matt. Matty. Why don’t you go run around the block or something.” 

“Bum leg, remember?”

“I remember. Make it a fast walk. Burn off some energy, and I’ll take a shower.” 

 

///

They met for lunch at a diner. John ordered a soup and salad, iced tea. Matt ordered a burger and a beer. They sat at the counter-- John didn’t like having his back to the crowded restaurant, but he did like sitting next to Matt, brushing their arms and shoulders together casually while they ate. 

Matt was complaining about his new tech job. “They could run things so much more smoothly, but the suits aren’t going to listen to the new guy. Not that they actually wear suits. They just act like it, you know. They’re so concerned about money all the time. I never did have much patience for that and now… Well, after seeing the extreme consequences of greed up close and personal it’s definitely soured me for life.” Matt rubbed his knee absently. 

It was hard to tell how serious Matt was about the complaining; he’d only been at this job for six weeks. Hell, they’d only been together for two and a half months. And yet it felt like longer. It felt totally comfortable. John put his hand on Matt’s knee and rubbed over the injury, his thumb making circles over the knee cap. What a terrible place to get shot. Especially your first time. Hopefully for Matt, it’d be his only gunshot wound.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said. He stole a french fry off Matt’s plate. “Listen, I gotta go back to work and I’m going to a meeting later. I’ll see you when I see you.” He knew he sounded like an asshole, so he leaned in and breathed in Matt’s ear loudly. “Call 1-900-McClane for a good time.”

Matt snorted, turned his head, and stole a kiss-- a quick brush of the lips and a searing flash of his eyes. 

John walked quickly out of the diner, his heart beating faster than it rightly should have been.

///

The next night he was on a surveillance job with Garcia when his phone rang, showing Matt’s number. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hi Sugar.” It was goddamn Matt’s voice, only different, pitched higher like he was doing a character. “I was told to call this number for a good time.”

John hung up the phone.

“Wrong number?” Garcia said, taking a sip from her plastic bottle of coke.

“Why don’t you go on home?” John said. “We don’t both need to be on this one. It’s a cake walk. Anyway it’s only an hour left until the next shift arrives.” 

“Seriously? Thanks man, I’ll owe you one.” Garcia hopped out of the car and was gone, headed for the subway station. She had a wife a kid at home, and this was a shitty surveillance job; she didn’t need to be told twice. 

John dialed Matt back and the phone picked up after one ring. “Sorry I had to hang up on you. There was someone here. What’s your name, Princess?”

“Ellen Ripley,” Matt said breathily.

“Ripley? From _Alien_? That’s your role play character?”

“I’m the sexiest, most badass woman in all of science fiction,” Matt said.

“Yeah OK but she’s not really… you. I mean she hardly talks at all.”

“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this. I mean I’m sitting here at my desk with my hand on my dick and I have a rough script drawn up and everything.”

“Does it involve multiple airlocks? Decontamination rooms?”

 

“I may have put in a little too much technical detail,” Matt admitted.

“I’m not denying that Ripley is completely sexy,” John said, settling into the conversation. There’d been no movement of any kind in the building across the street for three hours. “But she’s more the shoot first and ask questions later type. And she doesn’t even wear a skirt. I’m thinking you should go for one of those Star Trek ladies from the old series. The mini dresses.”

“Of course. Of course you would say that,” Matt said, but he sounded a bit breathless. “The fucking gogo boots.”

“Don’t worry, you definitely have the thighs for it. Must be the PT. That and the vigorous sex.”

“You’re a secret nerd. I knew it all along.” Matt’s voice was breathy now, hushed. “I bet you watched the original series when it aired.”

John gave into inevitability and unzipped his own jeans. “Reruns, they were on all the time. Yeah, you’d look great in the little dress and no underwear. Red. I’ll bend you over your desk while you’re wearing it. All your little action figures will get smashed.”

“I just replaced those,” Matt said. “What do you have against Boba Fett.” 

“I’m gonna pull your skanky little dress up around your hips and spank your pretty ass,” John said, stroking his own cock. 

“Ugh, yes, do it, I’ve been bad.” 

“Jesus,” John said, feeling blood rush to his cock and balls. He sent up a little prayer that nothing would happen in the warehouse, or anywhere else along this block, for the next ten minutes at least. “The mouth on you, kid, God.”

“You love it. You want to put your cock in my mouth all the time. I can see you looking, staring at my lips. I’ll suck on the tip just the way you like when you get home. I’ll get you all ready and hard and leaking, all ready to fuck me. I’ll get myself ready too so you don’t have to wait.”

John was stroking himself hard now, his hips moving up into his hand. 

“You can fuck me as hard as you want. All the time. I’m fingering myself right now ‘cause I’m so hungry for your cock.” 

“I’ll be home soon. I’ll take care of you,” John said. “I’ll be your Captain Kirk. The captain always takes care of his crew, right?” He laid his head back on the seat of the car, not taking his eyes off the warehouse, but letting his legs fall open a bit. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He pulled on his cock in a steady, loose rhythm. He felt his orgasm building low in his belly.

“Yeah, he does. You always treat me right. You always make me feel good.”

“I want you to fuck yourself on a dildo. Go get one.”

“Uh, I--I’ve got one here,” Matt said. “The big red one.”

“Good. You’re prepared, that’s good. Thinking ahead, smart. You know what to do. Put some lube on there and let me hear you fuck yourself.” John could see it: the big, messy desk, the open laptop, Matt hunched over and leaning across the surface with the phone on speaker, fumbling with the dildo. It was a shiny one that had a vibrator in the base.

“OK, OK, it’s in. My ass is clenching around this dildo. It wants your cock, McClane. I want you to fill me up and come in my ass.” 

John came hard, groaning into the phone, letting Matt hear it. He tried to catch his come in his hand, so that he could wipe it on a napkin from his fast-food napkin stash, but his come spilled out and got on his clothes. Fuck it. He hadn’t been this irresponsibly horny in decades. The car smelled like jizz. 

He could hear Matt panting and groaning through the phone, probably close to coming. He put a little edge of authority in his voice and said, “Come for me, Matty. I want to hear you. Your captain orders you to come.” That did it-- Matt’s voice sounded punched-out, wounded. He said “Fuck” twice and there was a clatter like maybe he dropped something on his desk. 

“Feel better now?” John asked.

“I suddenly have about five new ideas for this project,” Matt said. “And a dress to order.”

///

Matt prided himself on follow-through. Three weeks later he had a mini-dress made of wool blend, black gogo boots, and a metal communicator badge. He’d found a shade of red lipstick to match the dress, paid too much for it, and watched three separate YouTube tutorials on how to apply it. He’d talked to one of the best cosplayers on the East Coast to find the right materials, and had the dress custom made. It was Comic-Con-worthy, if he ever worked up the courage to wear it outside the apartment. The dress was a bit longer than Uhura’s supposedly standard uniform, and fit him just right; he could swing his arms around and nothing pinched. The wool was high quality, soft and not scratchy. 

Matt looked at himself in the full length mirror, fussing with the hem of the dress. His thighs were pale and hairy, but not bad, and anyway he knew that John liked them. The scar on his knee stretched up over the top of the boot and around to the back of his leg, raised and ugly even months later. He was supposed to put lotion on it everyday, but often didn’t, preferring not to think of the wound or look directly at it. 

He had some time to kill before John came home so he worked on a project on his laptop, feeling like he really was Uhura as he typed. It felt strange at first, his legs and groin being exposed to the air, but he got used to it after a while. He got so engrossed that he forgot what he was wearing when he answered a web call from Warlock.

“What the fuck, man,” Warlock said.

“What? Oh, the cosplay. Pretty epic, right?” He stood up and did a turn for the camera.

“You get weirder all the time.”

“Said the man who is eating a Dorito and Oreo sandwich.”

Warlock waved as if to indicate a truce. “This safe house idea of yours is good. I’ve sent it around to the relevant folks for comment. Oh, and we’ve got a campaign going on Saturday if you want to join. You only, your evil cop boyfriend is explicitly not invited.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “You’re just intimidated by his amazingness. He’s a world class strategist,” Matt said. Not that John would ever care to play D&D, but Warlock didn’t need to know that. “Besides we have other plans. Thanks though.”

“I’ve seen this pattern before. The relationship pattern,” Warlock said, nodding. “People drop out of the social sphere.”

“Yeah, you should give it a shot. With a person, not a blow up doll.”

“Lucinda is very satisfied and has no complaints.”

“Give her my kind regards. Later, man.” 

///

When John came home, late, he looked over at Matt, where he stood uncharacteristically silent at his computer desk, wearing a fucking red dress and boots. John felt a little stunned, and he stared at Matt with wide eyes for a long moment. He regained his composure, though, and carefully put away his gun and badge. He locked the door, hung up his suit jacket, and walked slowly over to where Matt was sitting. He leaned over and kissed his neck, behind the ear, lingering there. 

“Is this all just for me?” John asked.

“Nah, new dress code requirement at work. Star Trek Fridays.” 

“Do you want to keep this on?” John asked, running his hands down the long sleeves of the dress.

“Fuck yes,” Matt breathed.

“It’ll get messed up.”

“Worth it.” Matt turned in his chair and kissed John, long and sweet. The lipstick smeared onto John’s lips. 

“Let me suck you off,” Matt breathed.

“If you insist,” John smiled. “Just-- bedroom.” 

Matt didn’t kneel at all if he could help it; it made his knee hurt for days. Almost all of their sex adventures actually happened on the bed. Despite John’s reputation, he was a real safety-first kind of guy and didn’t much like pain, when he could avoid it. 

John unbuttoned his shirt and Matt undid the belt buckle. He slid the belt out slowly. On a whim he wrapped the soft leather around his neck twice and re-fastened the buckle. 

“Huh,” John said, running his hand over the leather and giving it a gentle, testing tug. It wasn’t quite as tight as Matt probably wanted, and he made a mental note to get him a real collar. “All right, I can work with that. You tell me if I pull too hard. Tap me on the hip.” 

John got the rest of his clothes off quickly. He tugged on the front of the makeshift collar to position Matt where he wanted him, laying down alongside John. John grabbed onto the back of Matt’s head, running his hand through the smooth hair and petting the short, shaved hairs that ran under the belt. Matt didn’t waste any time. He sucked John down and used one hand to stroke over a sensitive spot on his hip bone. He went at it with enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, right there, you’re so good, you’re a champion cock sucker. You’re the space queen of cock sucking.”

Matt pulled off for a second-- of course he couldn’t stand not being able to respond.

“That’s Lieutenant Cock Sucker to you,” he said. “Uhura was an El Tee and later a lieutenant commander.”

“Well, ok then. Come up here.” John kissed him dirty just to shut him up. “What do you have under that little skirt of yours, Lieutenant? You gonna let Captain Kirk see?” John pushed the dress up and Matt shimmied to help him. “Ah, beautiful, yeah. I told you, your thighs look great in this. On your back with your legs up, Princess.”

Matt did as instructed, lifting the heavy boots into the air and hooking his knees over John’s shoulders. He teased Matt a little, playing with his hole and his balls, breathing slow to calm himself down. The dress was rucked up messily around Matt’s hips; the lipstick smeared around his mouth. 

“Give it to me rough, Captain,” Matt said. “Pound me into the mattress. Make me scream.”

“We’ll get there.” John reached down and pet Matt’s hair, brushing it out of his eyes. He reached over to the nightstand and put on a condom and lubed up his cock. John readjusted their positions a bit, putting a pillow under Matt’s narrow hips. He unzipped the boots one by one and slowly took them off, setting them carefully beside the bed. Then he lifted Matt’s legs again and lined himself up, sinking into Matt on a long exhale. He held there, relishing the feeling, petting Matt’s ear. He slipped his hand around to the belt-collar, tugging on it gently, pulling him up just slightly. This effectively held Matt pinned into a tight arc; though his arms were free, the rest of his body was inscribed into a circle made by John’s body. 

“Hold onto the backs of your knees, Lieutenant,” John instructed.

Matt complied. His eyes looked a little glazed, as if he were drugged on sensation. John got down to fucking, moving slow, letting his hips take over. 

Matt was moaning and babbling almost continuously now, his hands grabbing at the sheets. “Uh, yeah, just like that, you’re so good to me all the time.”

John didn’t think this was really true; he wasn’t a particularly good partner or even person; he’d failed at his marriage and nearly ruined his relationship with his kids. But Matt said it all the time now, even when they weren’t having sex. And it felt fucking good. 

“You’re good to me too, Matty, you’re so perfect.” His hips sped up and and they were fucking hard now, Matt’s body thrusting up to meet John’s, sweat slicking between them. “Can we-- can we get this dress off of you.”

Matt went to pull at the hem and lift it over his head but it got stuck somewhere in between and trapped him, his arms and head stuck. He cursed and then laughed. “Wait, I forgot there’s a fucking zipper on the side.”

John had to stop what he was doing entirely and help Matt, but it only took a minute before together they got the dress off. John kissed Matt and hitched him back up. Now he could play with Matt’s nipples and collarbone. He fucked into Matt and squeezed one of his nipples hard. Matt yelped. But, “Do it again,” Matt said. “Squeeze my tits.”

John did, and he leaned down and sucked at the nipples until they were red and sore. 

He pulled Matt’s hair so that Matt’s head went back and his long throat was exposed. His mouth was open, lips red and panting. His face, neck and chest were flushed and his cock--still untouched-- curved hard and red against his belly. John released Matt’s hair and finally grabbed his cock, smearing the precum around the head and jacking him off.

“Come for me, Lieutenant. Be good now and come for your Captain.”

Matt’s whole body arched up as he came into John’s hand. He was so beautiful, his face blissed out, contorting and relaxing, moaning quietly. 

John fucked him some more, and Matt grabbed hold with his ankles around John’s back, pulling him closer as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Fuck me hard-- fuck my pussy,” Matt said loudly. “I’m so wet for you.” 

John drew in a shocked breath. It was as if all the blood left his head and entered his balls and his cock; he couldn’t think, he could hardly see straight. John’s orgasm crested over him and he felt it all the way through to his fingertips and toes. 

Afterwards Matt was more restful than usual, though still not sleepy. He curled up into John’s space like a cat, so John petted his hair.

“Why do I feel like we’re just scratching the surface of your sex ideas?” John said.

“It must be because you’re a brilliant detective.” 

“Hm, that’s true. Well, here’s looking forward to more of them, then.” 

John put an arm over Matt and fell asleep.

\---


End file.
